


Sink or Swim

by doorwaytoparadise



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Douglas is impressed, M/M, Martin is secretly BAMF, and violently protective, bar brawl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:31:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a brawl at a bar starts to panic Martin, Douglas tries to get them out without a fuss. However, a blow to the head takes him down. When he comes to, he bears witness to the incredible sight of Martin standing over him protectively, swinging a pool cue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sink or Swim

The particular bar they were currently occupying was just shy of filled to the brim. Martin and Douglas had just flown in that afternoon and after dumping their flight bags at the hotel, made the mutual decision to spend the night somewhere not quite as run down. The bar had a local reputation, although not a good one, which Douglas pointedly did not tell Martin. The captain needed a drink and if he knew this place had such negative connotations, he never would've agreed to go out. The two pilots sat at the counter, shoulders pressed together in an effort to avoid the respectively rowdy and unpleasant patrons on their other sides. Martin was nursing a gin and tonic while Douglas sipped on a ginger ale. Douglas was just considering making a comment on the present crowd, when part of said group suddenly broke into an uproar.

At the opposite end of the room, among the now overturned tables, a fight had broken out between two groups of men. Immediately, the rest of the mostly drunken audience eagerly joined in, lashing out at anyone just to fight for fighting's sake.

Douglas simply raised an eyebrow, having seen behavior like this plenty before, and deigning to brush it off, so long as no one tried to drag him in. It was only when he realized that Martin looked ready to have a panic attack that he grew serious. He nearly smacked himself in realization, because _of course_ a man like Martin would be extremely uncomfortable in a situation like this. Protective instincts kicking in, he pulled the smaller man close to him, determined to make it out as swiftly as possible. Drawing Martin under his arm, he weaved his way between brawling pairs and ducking beneath the occasional airborne bottle, heading for the nearest exit. Just as he caught sight of the door, he felt a solid impact directly to the back of his head. Douglas collapsed on the spot, vision going black, as he passed out, landing on the floor with a thud. His last conscious thought being _Shit. Martin._

 

===

 

Blinking against the darkness, Douglas struggled back to the land of the living. The first thing he registered was the noise. He must not have been out for too long, as he could clearly hear the brawl still raging around him. As this thought registered, it immediately reminded him of exactly how he got to his position on the floor, and he attempted to rise, intent on finding Martin before anything else. A wave of nausea told him he was moving far too fast, so he shifted himself onto an elbow to try and regain equilibrium. Lifting his head, Douglas was promptly met with what was probably the greatest thing he had ever witnessed. He had found Martin, that was for sure, but it was what Martin was doing that stunned him.

Standing over him in a protective stance, which was surprising enough, but he felt his jaw drop as the captain let loose a sound only describable as a vicious snarl. There was also a pool cue. In Martin's hands. And he was _swinging_ it. Like a baseball bat. At someone. Make that several someones.

At that moment, Martin turned slightly to the left, fending off some random drunk that had lunged at them from the side, and Douglas got a glimpse of the ginger man's face. His breath caught at the sheer fury he saw reflected in those silver-gray eyes, and he was hit with the realization of _something_ very significant.

But that was for mulling over later. For now, he would very much like to get off the floor, but that required getting Martin to move from his position of one foot on either side of the older man's body.

“Martin! Captain! Martin!”

On the third try at gaining Martin's attention, Douglas raised his voice even further, finally eliciting a response. Martin whipped his head around to look at Douglas, pool cue still poised threateningly before him. The minute he met Douglas' eyes, the fury melted off his face, becoming relief, as he shifted to stand at his first officer's side. Martin offered his hand that wasn't armed, which Douglas accepted, letting the smaller man pull him to his feet in an unexpected show of strength. Martin's eyes darted up and down, clearly making sure Douglas was uninjured aside from his head, before they both made the simultaneous move to get the hell out. Martin dropped the cue and they darted for the door, bursting into the cool night air and practically running for their hotel room.

 

===

 

Once inside their room, Douglas sunk unceremoniously onto the bed, groaning from the strain of both the blow to the head and the night in general. He dropped his head into his hands, resting his elbows on his knees, as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He nearly jumped when he felt a cold, gentle pressure on the back of his head. Martin had somehow procured an ice pack and was currently leaning over his first officer, tending to the injury. Douglas' medical knowledge had already kicked in to inform him that he had gotten away with a minor concussion, but he let Martin fuss over him anyway, too tired to protest the care.

Besides, he wanted Martin distracted as he thought back on what exactly had hit him back in that bar, as he took in the sight of Martin beating back violent drunks with a pool cue. Thinking about it, he realized that Martin had had to deal with both him passing out and being drawn into the fighting. If anyone had asked Douglas how Martin would react, he certainly would never have said he would fight back. It was, all in all, extremely impressive, and Douglas could hardly believe that Martin had pushed aside his panic and chosen to protect Douglas instead, for who knows how long.

It seemed that this night was one of revelations. Both the sight he had awoken to and the way Martin had so easily pulled him up proved the smaller pilot was far stronger than he made himself out to be. Douglas glanced up at Martin, sensing that he was finished with whatever he was doing, and found himself locking gazes with him. Martin's expression was unreadable, eyes bright with lingering adrenaline, with scratches marring his cheek, and scrapes along his hands, and Douglas suddenly knew he was gone. So that was what had hit him. It was instantaneous and oh so quiet, making itself at home, and in this shitty little hotel room, with a concussion, and smelling like alcohol, Douglas Richardson felt his heart being pressed into Martin's hands.

Still holding Martin's gaze, he made a decision.

Martin tilted his head at Douglas, seeing the range of emotions and thoughts flicker across the normally controlled man's face. His eyebrows drew together in question as Douglas' expression finally seemed to settle. The look Douglas was giving him was both intense and determined. He found himself wondering what could be on his mind. In the next instant, all thoughts vanished, as Douglas had just pulled him down into a kiss. It didn't last long, but when they broke apart, both felt like a lifetime had passed between them. Douglas watched his captain, who had yet to reopen his eyes, hopeful and desperate and feeling far too old for this. He had three failed marriages under his belt. This time, it was sink or swim.

Martin finally slid his eyes open, fixing Douglas with such a loving look, he nearly pulled him right back in.  
Martin let out a small “ _Oh_ ,”, a smile creeping onto his face. “About time.”

Douglas felt the world settle. If this night had proven anything, it was that his captain was a perfect storm. And as Martin pulled him into an embrace, he realized that in that kiss, he could taste the rest of life.

 

_Kamikaze airplanes in the sky_   
_Are we going down or will we fly?_   
_This could be a shipwreck on the shore_   
_Or we could sail away forevermore_   
_This time it's sink or swim, sink or swim._

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on the meme, here: http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/4885.html?thread=7253269#cmt7253269


End file.
